


Mr. Skull Face's Kindergarden for Multilinguals

by Brambora



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Afrikaans, Alternate Universe - Kindergarten & Pre-school, Blow Jobs, Czech, F/M, French, Guest Starring: Child Soldiers, Irish, M/M, Metahemeralism, Mr. Skull Face the teacher, Other, Paz The Cook, Post Postmodernism, Russian, Second World Typical Racism, Slovak, Tentacles, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 06:28:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13564788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brambora/pseuds/Brambora
Summary: As every teacher Skull Face works for honor and not money, which has more to do with the salary level than his morals. He works hard to help the world get rid of english language and what's better way to change the future than via chidlren?





	Mr. Skull Face's Kindergarden for Multilinguals

**Author's Note:**

> **Recommended Reading to completely understand this fic: ******  
> Brief Summary of Irish History  
>  Languages of The Second World  
> Beginner's Guide of Collies Breeding  
> A Dictionary (Google Translate usage is advised in order to unlock the jokes)  
> Lord of the Flies  
> 12 Rules for Life: An Antidote to Chaos  
> Beyond Freedom and Dignity  
> The Motorcycle Diaries  
> You can also read Sigmund Freud's Die Traumdeutung, but let's not be pretentious.

“Tell me Chico, why are you here?” Skull Face was very tired and very annoyed. He had a right to be, any teacher would, if they had a kid in their office ten minutes before their shift started.

It wasn’t unique for the children to appear in the kindergarten before official opening time, as their parents needed them off in time to get to their own early jobs. It wasn’t unusual for him to find a bunch of kids already waiting for him before the kindergarten gate and sometimes behind it, as some parents were really creative about keeping their offspring safe. 

“Mister Skull Face, you- you aren’t gonna tell anyone I- was here, will you?” Chico was a very dumb and very annoying child, it was already obvious he wasn’t going to do grow into something world-moving and Skull Face would be impressed if he managed to finish high school. On the other hand he was extremely adorable. Skull Face enjoyed the pain in his eyes when he squeezed those chubby cheeks and even his mediocre intelligence was kind of cute, when it was delivered in a small amounts over a large-scale interval.

“Chico, have I ever told anyone?” Uncomfortable silence was all the answer he received. That was bad. The kid should trust him. “No, Chico. I have not. I won’t tell anyone this time either.”

Chico inhaled and Skull Face silently counted the seconds. One… two… three… four… five...

“Not-” Six... “Not even Paz?”

Paz was a cook in the facility. She was the type of woman who, in her late twenties, could be easily mistaken for one of the kids when she sat down between them. Her childish appearance was what helped her to get away with multiple minor offenses, such as smoking during her work time, passing on child tickets, or working for mafia. Of all these, what most annoyed Skull Face was not paying the full price for a bus ticket. Of course she was young and blonde and the kids loved her. Some of them more literally than the others.

“No, Chico. I’m not going to tell Paz. Now tell me, what happened?”

“Eli told me he had a knife!” 

That... could be problematic, but somehow Skull Face refused to believe it. Eli may be a little shit, but his mouth was bigger than himself. Once he told him a whole plan to assassinate his father in one breath. That day Skull Face almost called Child Services, but after hearing the part about kidnaping a nuke-carrying robot, he decided otherwise. He was not going to explain that to a social services worker.

“Chico, are you sure Eli wasn’t just boasting?”

“No, he-” 

Skull Face checked the clock. His shift officially started in three minutes. He had full eight hours and who knew how long overtime before all the parents picked up their children. He had a bad feeling that this was going to be a very long day.

“He swore it was true!”

If Skull Face had eyebrows, he would have lifted them. Now he only lifted his brow.

“You know, Eli isn’t very good boy. He has a lot to learn. He doesn’t understand that lying is bad, yet. But thank you for alerting me, you did a very good job.” Praising kids for nothing was the part of his job description he hated the most, but it was profiting enough for him to do it. “Take a candy and go back to play.”

He pointed at a basket full of candies, wrapped in blue paper. Those were menthol candies. They tasted terrible. Skull Face loved giving them to rookies, who weren’t expecting their strong taste. Of course, he only gave them to them when they were leaving, so once they started crying it was the problem of their parents, who later got an explanation that sweet candies weren’t healthy and their kids deserved only the best. The fools believed it, every single one of them did.

Chico had taken the candy, but only put it in his pocket as he left. That was the true lesson which they were in the kindergarten for; informers gain rewards, but the rewards suck.

He waited his two remaining minutes in the silence of his office, with occasional child’s screams echoing from the next room. He wasn’t going to be there any longer than he was paid for.

He stared at his phone until the clock hit the full hour. Only then did he get up and enter the hell of responsibility that waited for him outside. Calling his job hell was too harsh, if he was to be honest he would consider it more of purgatory.

He opened the door just to see a mess of white hair and skinny limbs hurtle towards him at an incredible speed. It was impressive how fast children could move. It’s sad that we no longer recognize child labor as morally acceptable. It would surely do wonders with the economy. He lifted his hand to stop the child before it hit him and he was still pushed a step back when they met.

“Fox. What’s happening?”

“Snake told me not to tell you, but his daddy told me to alert him if the twins do anything bad and now he’s not here so I came to you, but now I feel bad about betraying Snake, because he said that is was a question of honor and-” Why do they always have to go to him? When your friend thinks he can solve that himself, just let him. It’s pretty simple. Damn these kids. He would be perfectly fine if they solved their problems themselves. One more bruise is lost on a kid. Especially the twins. He was pretty sure their father was thinking the very same way. But they didn’t pay him enough to do anything about it.

“Fox.” He let his voice go louder, quite firmer than when he spoke to Chico. “Tell me what happened.”

“Happening, it’s still happening.”

“Then please tell me what is happening.”

“But Snake said it’s a question of honor-”

“Fox.”

“Solid stole Liquid’s knife and now they are fighting over it in the locker room!”

Who would give a knife to a preschooler?

The answer was Big Boss. Who else.

If Skull Face was a vengeful person, he would be burning his base for giving him extra work. But he was a teacher and the worst he could do to Big Boss was take good care that his children don’t get killed or in their case retroactively aborted. In Skull Face’s very personal opinion, children shouldn’t be considered humans until they could read and until then, abortion should still be an option. Skull Face got his qualifications to work with children by speaking too much for anyone to actually listen and too confidently for anyone to doubt his opinion. In the perfect utopian world, he would never be allowed to work with children and probably banned from approaching any of them within ten meters. But this is real life-friendly AU and anyone can be a teacher. Which is the only reason the majority of non-pedophiles choose the job. It’s easy. Naturally none of that applies to Skull Face. He simply chose the job because he had hope to create a multilingual world without English. That and because of his dacryphilia. 

He ruffled Fox’s hair, called him a good boy and, in the highest speed his grace allowed him, went to the locker room. If he had any faith in Him, he would pray to God that no lasting damage was done. Especially not now, in his work time, when the kids were his legal responsibility. 

Surprisingly enough, no one had been killed and no blood was staining the brightly colored walls. The twins however were lying on the floor, probably attempting to choke each other. At this point he was not able to tell where one body ended and the other began.

“Boys, stop it.” 

As expected, his order had been unheard. The little octopus of humanoid limbs was still struggling on the floor. He braced himself and reached for what he hoped was brown hair. He could lift any of them, but brunette twin usually struggled a bit less and there was less chance of getting bitten by him.

“David! Eli! Stop it now or I’m telling your father!”

He was telling him anyway, but they didn’t have to know that now. As usual the threat of their father was enough to catch their attention. Or maybe it was that the blond twin got distracted by attempting to hide the so-called knife. No one could say any of them had lied. It was knife, the fact that is was the table one was just a minor detail. Skull Face was a bit disappointed about it, but not surprised. It still shouldn’t be given to children to play with, unless during a lethal 1v1 fight: those are funniest with blunt weapons. 

“Now, boys.” He made a gesture of taking out his phone. “You are going to give me the knife, unless you want me to call your dear father.” The twins looked at each other and immediately started barking over one another.

“Boys!” It was too early for him to destroy his vocal cords, but at least none of the kids puked nor pissed itself yet. They hadn’t for how long? Six days now? That was a new record. Maybe because Emmerich was absent for most of the week.

It was David who ripped the knife out of Eli’s hand. In a less than a second Skull Face had all his life choices reconsidered and decided that jail was just fine for him. They would give him food and healthcare. Paid by others’ taxes. It wasn’t all that bad and with his appearance, he wouldn't have to be scared in showers, either. Luckily for him, the saner twin handed him the knife without any attempt to kill his brother. Every litter had the less retarded one, David was lucky to win the lottery over his brother.

“Now boys. You will go to the corner of shame to think of what you did wrong; I’m going to ask you when class starts and you had better have a good apology to give each other.” There was no need to add that each of them should go to a different corner of shame. Before they joined the kindergarten, there was no need to two corners of them, one had to be added just for the twins. Which meant that Skull Face had to waste a good minute of his free time to draw a another sad emoji and pin it over a corner, so everyone knew they should be sad about being there. 

Not that shame worked on the twins. It was the inability to move around that made them suffer the most. After a moment, they started to tremble; Skull Face found watching them rather amusing. The blond twin especially was having problems staying on one place.

They didn’t have to stay there long, as it was soon time for their morning lesson to start, the state prescribed one he had to hold in English, which kind of destroyed the idea of multilingual kindergarten. The concept of teaching children other languages at a young age worked marvelously on paper, but in life it just meant he had two clever kids who were actually capable of learning extra languages, a few whose parents paid for extra classes to teach them but it didn’t work very well, and multiple migrant kids who were multilingual simply because they had to be and he still needed English to communicate with all of them at once. The interesting thing about children was that they didn’t actually need to share a language to get along. It seemed that the older humans get, the more dependant on verbal communication they are.

Skull Face had just started calling the kids to come to him so he can count them when the door of the locker room creaked and a delayed child came in. It would be rude to call him ugly, it wasn’t his fault he looked like an underfed vampire bat, nor it was his fault that Skull Face always let him stand next to himself in group photos to make his own looks seem at least decent.

He waved at the child in the gesture to beckon him. Talking to him would be useless. He couldn’t speak English. No matter how long he knew the child, every time he saw him he was reminded of the awful conversation with his father he had signing him in.

..  
“I’m sorry, but we can’t accept your son here. We take only bilingual children.”

“My son is bilingual.”

“He doesn’t even speak English.”

“Oh, he does a little, he’s just shy.”

“I’m sorry but a little isn’t enough.”

“He does speak Czech and Slovak.”

“That doesn’t-”

“Those are two different languages.”

“They-” In order to stay politically correct, he couldn’t really argue against that, but he really wished he could, because to him they both sounded the same and as long as natives had zero problem understanding each other, he would continue to consider them one language. “Yes they are.”

“So he’s bilingual and he can also understand Russian! Or he should, I guess… he may be ugly, but not dumb.”

It didn’t take long to realize what kind of father the man was. How typical. He probably loved liquor over his son too. Not that Skull Face would be racist to assume all Slavs were like this, but he certainly kept some traditional opinions from his homeland, when it came to western Slavs at least. It was remarkable how the idea of racism changed by the continent. While multiple nations are counted as one race outside Europe, people there still possess the same hatred toward differences as multiracial continents do. It’s history-based of course, but even before that the true hatred came from the difference of language. Simply said if the language is different from yours, it’s unfriendly. That applies for language groups as much as it does for dialects. You could travel two hours from the Central Europe and you were already surrounded by a completely different language. After twelve hours of travel, you meet a genocide. The Balkans are just one of the latest examples.

The cultural prejudice proved true when the father learnt Skull Face was from Hungary and immediately attempted to show off his own language skill, asking Hol tudok venni füvet? Which was the only Hungarian sentence beside Gyere baszni kukoricában that he knew. For the first one Skull Face provided truthful answer, the second he respectfully declined.

“If I may ask, why do you want your child to attend this school in particular?”

“It’s close enough to our house for him to come here alone.”

“There are... certain laws against that here.”

“I know and I understand.” With that Skull Face was handled a bottle of strong booze. Which he accepted, even though he prefered cash bribes. 

“So boy, what’s your name?”

“@#ß$$!!”

Skull face desperately looked into the boy’s papers. The name had no vowels.

“Please, get a nickname.”  
..

Once he managed to calm down all the screaming children, wrote down attendance, and allowed the twins to move from their corners to sit down between others, he finally sat down himself and started the lesson... and rolled his eyes at Mantis leaving his side and crawling to Eli, not at all minding him already starting this.

“Today we are going to talk about careers!” Faking cheer in his voice every day have stripped him of all emotions in his personal life. It didn’t even brighten the mood, none of the kids were cheered. One of them took a finger out of her nose and immediately put it in her mouth. Skull Face ignored it and took out colored pictures, slowly showing them to the children.

“Who can tell me who this is?” 

Almost everyone lifted their hand. He picked one of the smallest hands...

“A firefighter!”

“Right! What does he do?”

“Fights fire!”

“Great! And who wants to be a firefighter?”

He gave the picture to the closest child with her hand up and lifted another one.

“And this is?”

“A doctor!”

“Who wants to be a doctor?”

“I want to be a pet-doctor!”

“That’s right up next. Who know what a pet-doctor is correctly called?”

There were slightly fewer hands up now.

“A ve-te- ve-te-ri-!”

“A veterinarian!”

“Great!”

Who of you little brats would like to be a teacher? He wished this kind of suffering for every single one of them.

After few cards, which were mostly taken by girls, came those which brought a wave of joy to nearly all of them.

“That’s a soldier!”

There were not enough soldier cards for them. He would have to print new ones and they would have to deal with black and white, since he did not have a big enough budget for colored printing.

“Now. You who haven’t taken any cards. What would you want to be?”

First hand up was Eli’s.

“I want to become an army pilot! I will shoot rockets and destroy our house and my dad and-”

“That’s enough, Liquid. Soldier cards are already taken. Today you will be...”

He looked at the leftover pictures. Why the the hell was a thief even there.

“...a chimney-sweeper.”

He gave the disappointed boy the card and his brother gave him an amused look while he literally cuddled his soldier one. That’s what you get for wanting to be special, Eli. You become a chimney-sweeper and it’s only your fault.

“I want to be an army tech, like my dad!”

“That’s nice, Hal. Here, have a mechanic.”

“But I want to be an army tech! I will build a big shooting robot!”  
“Of course you will, Hal. Of course you will. What about you, Naomi?”

“I will be a scientist!”

“That’s nice! Here,” he said as he handed her a doctor picture. The coat was the same.

“What about you?” he asked the second child he let to stand next to himself in group photos.

“I will be a special force agent. I will change faces like an octopus and infiltrate the enemy's highest posts.”

Doctor picture it was again.

“No! I want to be a spy!”

“You are a spy disguised as a doctor. And you, Chico?”

“I will be a cryptid hunter! I will hunt the basilisk and the tsuchinoko and...”

Thank God, there was at least one normal kid left here. Even if he was slightly simple and had to get over being handed a veterinarian picture.

“But that’s not a hunter.”

“You will have to have some pet-doctor skills to examine the cryptids, once you find them.”

Those chubby angry cheeks should be happy that Skull Face had no hooker picture nearby to give him, instead of making faces on him.

“What about you-”

Skull Face took a deep breath, remembering the little Russian he knew.

“Кем ты хочешь стать?” Good thing about Slavic languages was that a spoken form of any of them could be somehow understood by other nations. You don’t have to speak all of them to communicate with all Slavs, one is enough. Except they may not know the language themselves and answer you in their native one.

The redhead child took a look at him and then at the pictures some of his classmates were holding.

“Já chci umřít.”

For a while Skull Face stared at the kid, he understood that the first word was ‘I’, but that was all. So he handed him a picture of doctor, which he accepted. As long as none of these words was kurwa, Skull Face considered the speech safe for work.

“I want to be a sniper,” one of the girls said.

“There are no soldiers left, pick something else for now.”

“I like dogs.”

“Here’s a pet-doctor.”

“Wait,” Chico interrupted. “I want to be a sniper too!”

“Of course you will Chico, of course you will.”  
..

After the lesson, he let the children to draw themselves as their wished carrier and gave himself a break. Or at least tried to.

“I don’t want to be a chimney-sweeper! David has a soldier!”

Good thing that he was in his speech mood.

“You know, Eli, you won’t always share what your brother does. Sometimes you just have to fight for yourself to get what you want. You hadn’t been quick enough to get a soldier, so now you are a chimney-sweeper.”

The boy looked rather offended. “David always get the best stuff! It isn’t fair!”

I really can’t imagine why. Maybe it was time for a slightly philosophical lesson.

“Do you know how collies are bred, Eli?”

Eli stared at him. “They are ugly dogs.”

“Yes. But do you know how they are bred?

“They love each other?”

Skull Face clicked his tongue.

“Yes. That too. You see, certain breeds of collies, Rough and Smooth ones, are born with a mistake in their genes. That mistake is a disease, which they carry on their pups.”

Eli stared at him. He wasn’t dumb. He could understand the simplified version, Skull Face told himself, as he simplified it even more.

“Dogs have a lot of siblings.”

Eli still stared at him. 

“Everytime puppies of Rough or Smooth Collies are born, some of them get the dominant, healthy genes and some get the recessive ones. The ones with dominant genes will be clever and healthy and the with recessive dumb and weak.”

Also dead within a few days.

“See Eli, you can’t pick what genes you have. Sometimes your sibling simply get the better stuff.”

Now Eli stared at him with his mouth was open.

“Now go and draw your chimney-sweeper.”

It took a moment for Eli to process what he was told. Then he closed his mouth and answered.

“I don’t want to be a chimney-sweeper.”

With that he left Skull Face’s side and went to his child sized table. On the way he poked young Emmerich and took his card. Skull Face couldn’t care less.

The first children were finishing their task and handling him drawings and he sent them back to play. It seemed like Hal didn’t even need the mechanic picture, because he still drew himself completely different from the given reference, with a mech on his side and huge eyes on both him and the mech.

Some of the children were clever enough to trace the picture and ran off to pick from the best toys.

“Mr. Skull Face, Wolf refuses to give me the Barbie! But it’s my turn now! She had it the whole morning.”

“She was quicker with the drawing, Meryl...”

“But it isn’t fair! She just traced it and added hair!”

The doll they spoke of wasn’t even a real Barbie. It had flexible joints, which made it special and it wouldn’t be the first time he had to break up a fight over it. It was remarkable, how harsh girls could be to get what they wanted to. There was never as much blood drawn when boys fought as it was over this doll.

“Wolf, if you played with it before, share it with Meryl now.”

“No, she’s lying! It’s my turn now!”

First lesson Skull Face learned when he started working at the kindergarten was that Developmental Psychology was a complete waste of time, done by people who had never talked to a kid in their life. ‘Preschoolers aren’t capable of lying,’ they claimed. ‘They believe what they say,’ they taught at universities. ‘You have to pretend you believe them, unless you want to ruin their imagination development.’ At that point even Behaviorism was more right about children and it was based on them being very easily manipulated. Or maybe every single child science ever examined was Chico, because in that case, it made a perfect sense.

“Wolf, I saw you with the doll this morning. What about you just play together like good girls?”

Both looked at him, as if he just said something offending.

“But Wolf doesn’t play nice with her dolls! She always hurts them!”

“And Meryl does gross stuff with Ken!”

“Then you will-” do gross stuff while hurting Ken probably wasn’t the best advice he could give them. “-have to figure something out. Find her a job for example, make her a president or something.”

He didn’t have time to think of more as another speed-artist had used his distraction for a slightly forbidden activity.

“Chico!”

“What?” Chico answered from his table on the other side of the room. Still focused on adding more and more dead cryptids to his picture. The Not-So-Chico slowly backed away from the recycle bin he had been searching through moments ago.

“Octopus, come over here!”

Decoy Octopus walked to him with his best ashamed-but-only-for-getting-caught expression.

“What were you doing?”

“Searching.”

“Searching for what?”

“........anything.”

This kid was rather hard to deal with, but Skull Face knew from day one he was going to get far in life.

“What’s anything?”

Funny about children was that they were very similar to technology. Sometimes when given a command, they lagged and needed more time to process the information and think of feedback. The Soviet ones were most likely to stay lagged until you hit them with something hard. 

Octopus was like fine western product. Mistakes were short but still annoyingly noticeable.

“For anything I lost.” He said at last; it was pretty disappointing result, he hoped to get some good lie from this kid. Skull Face prepared himself for his least favourite speech. It was sad that even for him, speeches got annoying when repeated daily.

“Octopus. I thought we have already agreed on reducing lying for roleplaying games. You know very well that lying will never help you to achieve anything in your life and it will only cause you trouble, because I can always tell you are lying.”

Octopus looked at his feet. That was most likely just misunderstanding the roleplaying game rule, because if this child was ashamed, it was for bad lying skills and not because of morals. He was one of the children that couldn’t be sent for a delayed abortion anymore. He could read and was fluent in at least three languages. Skull Face wished all the children in here were like this.

“Yes, Mr. Skull Face.”

“And?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Now. What were you doing?”

“Looking for the paper you write messages for parents on. The ones you don’t send them.”

That was... if that was heading the way Skull Face assumed it was, the kid was even better than he thought.

“So I could find something sensitive I can use against the other kids.”

Skull Face never played favourites and hated spending time with all children equally, but from now on Octopus wouldn’t be forced to eat his whole lunch when he didn’t want to ever again.

“Blackmailing is bad. Don’t do it. Because if you do it there's a big possibility you won't be loved anymore.” He clicked his tongue. “Parents and teachers especially don't like blackmailers. And trust me. You want your parents to love you.” This speech he got out from 12 Rules for Life: An Antidote to Chaos by Jordan Peterson, an excellent tutorial for raising right-wing children. Raising Octopus as a leftist wouldn't do any good. He already had one kid proud of his father’s coal miner years around. With that his moral educator job was done and he set Octopus free. Three steps from the chair he so wished to finally sit on, he had crying Hal crawling up his arms. 

“Mister!” he hid his wet face in Skull Face’s chest. That shirt was just washed. Skull Face hated his life and child mucus even more. He patted the boy’s back.

“What is it, Hal?”

“Wo- Wolf and Meryl took my- my RE- my REX’s rifle.”

“And you let them take it?”

“There were two of them!”

“Wolf! Meryl! Why did you take his gun?”

“We are need it for Ken hunting!”

He has this theory that it would be much healthier to let Hal play with the dolls instead. Maybe girls were taught to play with dolls purely because if they were let near guns, they would become too powerful.

..  
No need to say that when 11 o’clock hit, Skull Face was already exhausted. He gathered all his determination and shooed all the children to the cafeteria. Where he let them at the mercy of Paz and recalled to his less-tiny chair to eat his lunch while silently observing.

“I don't get it. It's forbidden to talk with my meal in my mouth but so is talking instead of eating!” Tentacles complained.

“Stop talking and start eating!”

“Yes, Mister Skull Face.”

He felt a wave of relief when the twins sat at different tables. There won't be flying food today. Long distance shots were for primary schoolers.

Skull Face almost choked on his baby spoon (which wasn't that hard a task to be honest) when Hal started crying again.

“I don't want to eat it all.”

“You will have to. Look at Dave, he’s almost finished without a single complaint!”  
The first children started to leave the cafeteria.

“Mantis, get back to your table and eat the food.”

God knows if they feed you at home. (They probably didn’t back in The Second World, he thought.)

Mantis has returned to his table, but hadn’t even touched the spoon.

He turned to Paz, who was collecting the plates, or at least until the moment Chico offered to help her and she sat down next to Skull Face to eat her own lunch with her own baby spoon, letting Chico do the work himself, very content of the fact that he wanted to do that with her.

“Will you read to them today?”

“Will I get a bonus?”

“Meal tickets?”

“Good enough.”  
..  
“Eli stop eating his food! If you finished yours go prepare for sleep!”

“He doesn't want it!”

From the other side of the room, Hal looked jealously at Mantis and his half-eaten meal his friend willingly helped him with. He sat alone. One day he was gonna shoot out many schools. Or at least cause the death of many people, maybe his life goals about engineering weren't that absurd.

Skull Face let the last two boys sit in the cafeteria alone, while he returned to his office for a cigarette.

“Eat or you will miss the fairytale,” he told them; if they were any clever they would run while they can. That proved to be true for just one of them, as in the moment Skull Face left, the tiny redhead has stood up and poured the content of his plate onto Hal’s, who did not move to stop him and cried instead.  
..

Skull Face lit his cigarette with a relief only teachers know, while he decently stood in the backyard, away from obtrusive eyes of the street. From an opened window he could hear Paz reading. Fairytales were interesting things. It was nothing but fictitious tales, but shaped the child’s mind like nothing else could. She read The Song of the Nibelungs. He noticed that she wasn’t very fond of classics and liked to pick the obscure ones. He could only approve, he too prefered the folk versions over modernized tales. He quietly suffered every time he had to watch a Disney movie with the kids. Of all tales his favorite was Hansel and Gretel. It’s the first story most people remember when fairytales are mentioned. That's because it possesses what all children want. For the youngest, there’s a huge edible object, mirroring their oral fixation. Once they get over that, there's the danger the children are put in. For aging girls, there’s Gretel, who fights the witch to save her brother. In the Nibelungenlied, there’s a lot of strong role models for girls; they even reversed the Bluebeard tale.

He took the minute of his free time to text his wife.  
..  
When he returned inside, he wasn’t surprised to find Hal still sitting at his full plate and Chico curled up on Paz’s lap, as she finished reading the tale. Some of the children were already sleeping, the rest he knew wouldn’t fall asleep at all. But at least no one cried about it today.

Paz looked at him with pain in her eyes.

“Could you please lift him up, my legs are dying,” she whispered.  
..

The nap time was always too long for sleepless children and too short for Skull Face to get any actual rest. Those who were here since the early morning mostly slept. The rest laid in their beds, turning around every five minutes looking for more comfortable position. Except Mantis, who came late but slept anyway, even as Eli next to him repeatedly tried to talk to him, before he faded himself. Some of them were rather obvious about how much they hated it.

“Mister, could I go to the toilet, please.”

“No Raven, that would be the fourth time this hour.”

..

After the nap time, the multilingual skill of the children finally came to light. English was banned in the afternoon. They didn’t mind, some of them didn’t speak English even before. The only problem was that even at the age of five, certain children got awfully patriotic in their mother tongue, which was most likely caused by them copying their parents, but it was still very problematic in public.

“Tiocfaidh ár lá!”

“Octopus, ní bheidh sé teacht! ” On list of languages Skull Face didn’t approve of, Irish stood right after Czech. They both had all his respect for fighting for restoration of their mother tongue, but the lack of yes and no in Irish had driven him mad and he was pretty sure by negating Octopus’s sentence, he just asked to get shot during the next Irish rebellion.

“Революции переоценены.”

He didn't have time to react on George joining the conversation, as Mistral run to him with tears in her eyed.

“Maître Skull Face, Raiden il m'a volé ma glaive!”

At the times like this, Skull Face wished he was somewhere in Africa, experimenting on people instead. Alas, he was here, so he went with Mistral to get her toy back. Which was all he had to do now, because there was no actual program for the children after the nap; since few of them shared a second tongue, it would be hard to hold any lesson. So Skull Face just got along, listening to them occasionally fixing their grammar and way too often admonishing them for bad language.

“Папа сказал у Оцелота очень пидорский шарф.”

Папа had a point. Still, it was his job to prove them that he knew when they their words get naughty and assure them that is it bad.

“Не матерись!”  
..

“Ged bheir thu bean o Ifrinn, bheir i dhachaigh thu.”

Mistral only giggled in response and Skull Face wasn’t sure if he understood that one right, but he was sure it involved the word home and woman. If Octopus was doing that great picking up girls at his age, maybe there was a chance for the Irish to win this time.  
..

“A pak nás Rusové osvobodili, ale teď už zase podlízáme Německu.”

“Сейчас вы сосете хуй Германии, но создайте союз и это будет 69.”

“George!” That was actually a good statement, that kid should run for office or at least write political speeches. But what the hell did Big Boss do to his children that they were capable of that joke at their age. At least this one was. Eli was already back in the corner of shame, hitting the wall with his forehead. Skull Face let him go before he could cause himself any lasting damage. It simply wasn’t worth the paperwork.

..  
Skull Face made a special rule for the non-English speaking kids, that they could speak English in the afternoon, but not their mother tongue, to make them at least try to get better. Naturally, they weren't listening.

“A-to-mov-ka.”

“A-.” 

“A-to-mov-ka.” 

“A-to-mov-ka.”

“Správne!”

“Mantis, не говори по-чешски!”

“Это по-словацки!” 

Was that Slovak? Was he lying and speaking his mother tongue? Skull Face couldn’t argue with that, distinguishing Slavic languages was something he gave up on. He was only happy that Mantis finally caught on some Russian, if not English. He let him alone to teach David how to say  
‘nuke’ in language he will probably never use in his life.  
..

“Tha mo bhàta-falbhain loma-làn easgannan.” His hovercraft is full of what?  
..  
“Liewe Here, hulle het Ralph vermoor!“

“Julle bliksems!”

“Shabani, attento a come parli!”  
..

Skull Face would have liked to say he was sad when the day finally ended but he wasn’t. He was only happy when Paz announced that Chico’s sister came for him, apologizing that she really couldn’t come sooner than 78 minutes late. That gave him whole extra ten minutes to pack everything, while her and Paz giggled in the locker room while Chico, suddenly very shy, went to change to the restroom.

“And she believed you?”

“Oh please, I’m a professional. You read the newspaper.”

“Yea, but so was El Che at his time in Chile.”

“You know, boys will be boys!”

They both laughed.

“And how is Che?”

“Oh, he’s growing up so fast, wait, I’ll show you a picture!”

That was exactly what Skull Face needed to hear, after negating Irish revolution earlier that day. Grown women, defending Che Guevara by ‘boys will be boys’. He still didn’t resist looking over Amanda’s shoulder at the picture of her kitten. It was sphynx. He had no idea why she named it after Che Guevara. The sounds Paz made upon seeing it were just inadequate. It was ugly.

Finally, Chico was ready to go and Skull Face could rush them all out, so he could finally lock the door and go. There was still a long way of crowded public transport between him and home. He sighed and bought a full-price ticket from a ticket machine like the good citizen he was. Unlike some.  
..  
People could screw all the veteran honor days. The true heroes here were the teachers who helped to raise their kids and the only prize they received was the feeling of self-fulfillment, because the salary was terrible and overtimes unpaid. Every single day Skull Face got home from the work, he told himself that it wasn’t worth it and he wouldn’t go back again, just to wake up the next morning to the same schedule. It wasn’t even required for him to work, his pretty wife earned enough for both of them.

When he opened the door to his house, he made the mistake of getting in before checking the floor. It was still wet from washing and the unmistakable stain of his boot had stuck on it. He cursed and bent down to clean it up with whatever was at hand, before she could notice.

“Love,” echoed from the other room, “remove your boots please, I just washed the floors!”

The warning came a little too late, but she didn’t have to know that.

“Of course, darling!”

He went straight to the kitchen and sat down at the table.

“You were late, so I kept your dinner in the microwave.”

And got up again.

As he was eating his reheated soup, she sat down next to him.

“So how was your day?”

“Still the same.” He sighed. “The Czech kid came late, the twins were annoying and when playing Simon Says, Otacon said cock and George pointed at Raven’s crotch.”

“That’s horrifying!“ she said, overplaying the shock on her face. “At that age!”

“And how was your day?” He took a long curly hair out of his soup, respectfully pretending he didn’t mind.

“Oh, you know as always, Adam had...” at that point, he did all he could to pay attention, but after listening to children and Paz’s blabble for hours straight, it was a rather hard task to do. He was glad when she finished and went to take a shower instead. He considered joining her, but he felt a little too tired for that and poured what was left of his soup into the sink instead. No need to say his wife was not the best at cooking, but he still loved her as he took an ice cream out of the freezer and ate it with the same spoon he did the soup, because like every teacher he was dead inside.

“Stop wasting food and join me!” his lovely wife taunted him.

Sometimes he forgot she was a psychic too. Probably. She always knew what he was doing, often even before he actually started.

Like a good husband he put the ice cream back in the freezer and went to accompany his wife, even though he would rather finish his ice cream. It wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy it, but he was more of the cuddling type of the family. Or maybe he became one after he learned her tentacles had teeth too. If he wasn’t a masochist, he wouldn’t go into pedagogy in the first place.

So he went to join his wife in the shower, thinking about how lovely she was, with her long hair that he was gonna have to clean from the shower drain again. She smiled at him when he entered the bathroom. Maybe if she stopped the shower now, they wouldn’t have bill problems.

He quickly undressed and neatly folded his clothes before joining her in the shower. She was quick at pushing him to the wall and getting on her knees. She could have done that back in the kitchen or in their bedroom, but he noticed the shower was her favourite place for blowjobs. Probably because toothbrush was near.

Since their wedding night, it was never the same inside of Skull Face’s pants. But his wife was decent enough to pay for the war reparations for him. Unlike Germany to Poland. He had a suspicion that she bribed the doctor to give him a little extra in the length. Again, as long as she was happy, he was not complaining.

She took him in her mouth, without much ceremony. Her violet eyes looking up on him. In a moment he was hard and moaning. She wasn’t the only one overplaying her reactions for the eternal drama. 

He moaned her name and her eyes smiled at him.

As she rolled her tongue around the head of his cock, Skull Face wished he could hold on something that wasn’t wet. She looked at him with a sparkle under her lids. Separating from her back the tentacles made their way towards him. They tangled around his body; one of them went far enough to gently caress his face. That’s why she wanted to do it in the shower, he thought. They were self lubricating and made a mess.

She gave his cock one last lick and got up to face him. She had the privilege of her tentacles holding her up as she tangled her legs around his waist. One of the tentacles slid too close to his ass. She laughed at the face he made. She slid down on him. He felt her around himself, as perfect as she did that first time years ago. She made the most beautiful sounds as she continued down.

He held her waist with his hand as she fucked herself on him and kissed his mouth with her own. He didn’t really want to think about what she tasted of. He was ashamed to be still surprised when he felt one of her tentacles bite his lower back. The sharp pain hit him unexpectedly and he yelped in her mouth. Then bit her in return. They were both respectful adults of course and both of them were required to appear discrete in order to keep their jobs. So he lowered under her shoulder to put all the marks on. She had it easier with the many mouths of hers to mark him where no other but her gaze was allowed. Under them, crimson joined the clear water, drawing lines in the flow.

He felt himself getting closer to climax, but refused to come before her. That would be very impolite and he wasn’t sure if his ego could bear it. Luckily for him, she wasn’t holding back and took what she wanted from him busily. His hand slipped between them to get a hold of her breast; she moaned in response. It didn’t take long for her to finish and for him to follow. After he pulled out of course, because they were both responsible and after spending a whole day in the presence of children, he really didn’t want to take any risks.

She was quick to finish washing herself and with a kiss she left him alone. He took a long time to clean himself and stare into the void, until he ran out of hot water and had to hurry out of the now-cold shower.

She was already asleep when he joined her in bed, hours later after he put all his complaints and theories on 4chan. There should be a deep ending showing that everything is perfect and even a badly-paid job can bring happiness. But that would be a lie and if you lie your parents won’t love you and trust me, you want your parents to love you.

**Author's Note:**

> Was that even a bait at this point?


End file.
